


Maybe

by Ardwynna



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Compare and Contrast, Gen, Introspection, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 14:55:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11900091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ardwynna/pseuds/Ardwynna
Summary: Two people contemplate an unlikely future where hopes and dreams are not beyond reach.





	Maybe

Elmyra mentions it one day in that offhand way mothers have, that one day she’ll understand. One day, when she has children of her own. Aeris cannot fathom the thought. What in the world would she do with children? Where would she even get them? She’s old enough for people to be interested, and weird enough that they lose interest soon enough. 

Besides, she’s got her hands full trying to take care of herself. This is no life to give a child, this running, and hiding and scraping to make ends meet. No sun, no sky, no open spaces, and a constant yearning ache inside for all of it. People above thinking she’s underplate trash, and people even higher above thinking worse, that she’s property, not even belonging to herself. She was stolen from herself so very young, and even now, on paper, she’s theirs. Any child of hers would be stolen too, no doubt about that. It’s no life to give a child, and it’s the only one she has. 

Then this boy comes along through the roof and makes a few jokes, and she pretends things are normal so she won’t hurt his feelings. One day, when she doesn’t have to pretend, she might actually consider it, maybe. When she’s her own person, owned by no one on paper or in fact, maybe. When she’s had as much sun and sky as she can hold and has enough that she can give some of it away, maybe. If he promises to take care of them so she won’t be chained down if the wind comes calling her away, maybe. Maybe.

oOo

A shrapnel blast goes below the belt and it’s only by mako and acrobatics he avoids severe injury. Genesis ribs him about making sure his future kids are still alive, and it takes him a while to catch the drift. It’s a strange way to talk about things, he thinks, because he can’t see kids in his future, not for the life of him. For starters, who would he even have them with? These things take two using nature’s methods, and he’s got zero prospects lined up for that. Not for the kind of long-term arrangement such things usually entail. He tries to imagine a mother for these ‘future kids’ and keeps coming up blank.

And if by chance children did somehow appear, what would he even do with them? Little people walking around, doing their own thing. Children aren’t like soldiers, he knows, he’s seen a tantrum or two over the years. And they need such care as he’s not too familiar with himself. Lullabies and tucking into bed, and fresh cookies now and then. He thinks he could learn, if he really had to, and cookies now and then do sound fine, but he would probably make a bloody mess of the whole thing. 

It hardly matters. There is no time to dwell on it. His time, his energy, his efforts are not his own. He lives at the behest of other men. There isn’t enough of himself left to give to children. Maybe one day, when the war is over, and he has nothing else left to do, maybe. When he’s put out to pasture and made to ‘settle down’, he might give it some more thought, maybe. If by some miracle a mother for ‘future kids’ made an appearance in his life, maybe. If he could give them better prospects than his own narrow life, and watch them keep being people, doing their own thing, he might give it a try, maybe. Maybe.


End file.
